Saturday, May 14, 2016

Art Blog: RICH People

I still have this problem. I don't feel comfortable around rich people. I was at my local museum today. I wandered the little gallery rooms. Living in a tourist town, I have learned to spot the $$$$ visitors. As I gaze across the room, I see the grey haired man speaking softly to the anorexic looking young woman dressed in the finest fashions. I am jealous (in a way).
OH, I had my time. I was cute once. I have taken rides in a Ferrari after a late night at the bar. I have been in a Jaq too. I could have had that kind of life if I wanted to pay for it. I didn't. Nothing in life is free. There is a price to pay associated with your life decisions.

I have been surrounded by rich people for the majority of my adult life. I am an artist. Rich collectors buy art. They have bought some of mine. I remember lurking at art openings watching the stylish, gilded people look at art. I was not one of them. I was an outsider.

I remember a time when a very rich woman came to my studio in the ghetto of Detroit. She drove her Jag. She walked the three stories up to my decrepit studio. I remember she had driving gloves on her hands. I just remember those gloves. All the while I kept thinking her car would be stolen in my dirt parking lot. Luckily it wasn't, but I still remember those gloves.

It is funny. I wish I had more money, but I don't wish I had to live that lifestyle. For example, the lady with the gloves had a husband who went broke a few years later. It was something about her husband and an addiction. They lost it all. I felt for her. I wondered if she sold those gloves(?).

Old money, new money, and NO money. Those are the financial classes of our America. Of course, I would like to feel or be rich just for a while. It will never happen because I don't want that kind of pressure on me. I like being poorish. It is simpler and more honest.


BTW I wrote "poorish" because I found out yesterday, that I am in the middle income for my city area. This is very scary to me because my income is very low. It says something about St. Petersburg. Despite all the mansions and pricey high rises, there are a bunch of us living here who are scraping financially to get by every day. The most frightening thing to me is that there are many who live below my own poverty line. Shoot! I am middle class according to research. This is funny in a bad way to me. Today, I debated the cost to buy sweet potatoes.


I have to explore this issue. It isn't a rich people problem. They have money and privilege, I don't. This is a photo of the Vinoy Hotel I took today down by the water front. I realized today that I have lived in St. Petersburg for 25 years and I have never walked past the car circle of this place. I don't feel like I belong. I almost feel like if I walked into this place they would chase me out. I doubt they would. I just feel this way.

Monday, May 9, 2016

Art Blog: Full Time FREE Artist

I remember the day I bought my first truck. I bought it new, off the dealer's lot. I felt so proud of myself. I remember driving to my job. The windows were down. The radio was blasting. My hair was whipping in the wind. I remember feeling so free. I felt like I was a successful artist. I had the world by the tail.

That was years and years ago. Since then, my art life has had ups and downs. However, I have always felt successful even though I worked other jobs to support my art. This lifestyle was on purpose. I didn't want to have to worry about art sale proceeds to be able to live. I wanted to fret less. So I taught. Still, I dreamed of the day I could live the life of a "full time" artist. I use that phrase tongue in cheek. I have always worked as an artist full time along with one, two, or three day jobs. I guess a better way to say it is: "I always wondered what it would be like not to work day jobs and just be an artist". That was such a foreign concept to me.

The day has come, I have no day job. You know what? I feel guilty! It has taken me almost a year to adjust to the idea of just working on my art all the time. I have worked jobs for so many years, I am accustomed to having a full calendar of meetings, trainings, and hours to put into jobs just to pay the mortgage. I don't have to do that now and for some reason, I feel like I am doing something wrong. It is like waiting to be called to the Principal's office or expecting the other shoe to drop. It is like a nagging feeling deep in my bones. I feel like I am in trouble.

This is why I remembered the day I bought my first truck. I loved that feeling of accomplishment and FREEDOM. In fact, I have just realized being free is one of the most important attributes of my life. I am a free bird now. I need to feel and embrace that feeling. I need to learn how to fly just like "Airwolf".


"Airwolf"
Acrylic on Cotton Cloth
Sheree Rensel